Expertise
by Flying Mockingjay
Summary: Katniss notices the District 2 male tribute from afar. It wasn't that hard for her to tell that he was somewhat of a looker. Cato/Katniss
1. Chapter 1

I just had the idea in my head and I wanted to write a fanfiction :)

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Chapter 1: Chariot

**Katniss:**

We walked down the long aisle, our faces determined. The other stylists are talking to each other, and I watch their reaction as our chariot illuminates in flames, and so do our outfits. I spot Cinna in the crowd talking with Haymitch, and for a second he doesn't notice me. But then I see the wink he sends towards me, and I turn back to Peeta, who's busy getting flowers thrown at him from the crowd.

"Peeta," I say, acknowledging the fact that my hand is moving closer to his, "Cinna's orders." I usually wouldn't like the fact that I must hold hands with a boy I barely even know, but I do it. I do it to show to the crowd that us young victors unite together. To show that we are more than just a piece in their games. I see President Snow up on the rising balcony, and I see him staring directly at me, in absolute fury. But although I know I will pay for it later, I dismiss the case for now, and go back to smiling at the crowd.

Our chariot swerves to the right and the Capitol fans instantly reach out to touch our faces, lost in the sense that we are covered in flames. Peeta and I both catch a rose in our mouth, and I avoid the prickly thorns that cover the stem. For a second I survey our competition, and notice District 1 and 2 are glaring at us, their faces glaring daggers. 1 is covered with what appears to be pink fur. The skylights from up above makes their outfit sparkle, and as I squint closer I can see a hint of magenta in their top. The district 2 tributes are both wearing some type of Roman armor on their chest, and a Viking winged helmet. They look by far the hardest competitors to beat, and as I turn to face Peeta he has a horrid look on his face.

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**Cato:**

If looks could kill, I did my job right. The male district 12 tribute looks frightened, and he immediately averts his eyes to the ground. But oddly enough, his partner doesn't look scared at all. She's staring directly at me, glaring right back. Clove nudges me with her arm and whispers in my ear, "We have a target to kill." I nod slowly, trying to process the information while concentrating on the girl. I send a scowl to her and hoping that will end the glaring, but she continues to stare at me, determined.

"What a bitch Cato," Clove says, getting worked up, "We'll kill her on the first day." I sense the urge to threaten the girl after the chariots, but I feel it won't be necessary. The chariots come to a stop as the President starts his speech, but listening to him talk is like listening to a broken tape recorder. He drones on and on until I stop listening and turn to face the girl once again.

"I will kill you." I mouth to her and curl my lips into a cruel grin. But she dismisses my threat and rolls her eyes, and goes back to focusing on the president. This angers me for some odd reason. Normally I would shrug it off too, but seeing her, district 12 scum, makes me want to snap her neck with my bare hands.

...

After the speech is over, all the tributes and the mentors go to the main dining hall and chatter about. Brutus comes over and nods his head in approval that we did well.

"Did you see District 12?" Clove snaps. Brutus glances over at them to see the last of the artificial fire from their outfits extinguished. Their mentors are in awe, and it sickens all of us. They shouldn't be the ones getting all of the attention, it should be us. We will dominate in the arena, for sure. The idea that they would win would put all of us to shame. Perhaps our district, even. Brutus walks over to the refreshments where their mentor is and starts talking with him. I see the anger in their mentors eyes, and Clove and I grin at each other.

We will win.

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**Katniss:**

"He wants us to back off," Haymitch says slowly, clenching his fists ever so slightly. I glance over at Peeta who instead of looking afraid at the district 2 tributes, is narrowing his eyebrows at them. But if looks could kill, Cato has won it in the bag. His partner, Clove, is about my height, so I'm weighing the fact if I could beat her in the arena. However, their district is adored by the Capitol, so I'm guessing Clove's physical strength and weight are both more than me.

"Well we won't," Peeta suddenly speaks up, but quickly quiets down. Effie and Cinna share a glance at one another, as if they are talking to each other secretly. I can tell by the countenance on their faces they agree, but I don't how long it will be until one of us gets killed.

"Peeta, we certainly could do that, but what would happen in the arena? We wouldn't want to be a target for the Careers. Surprise the Gamemakers in the private session, but keep quiet in the training center." Haymitch stops his sentence and looks over at Effie, who obviously agrees.

"Show your stuff when you're alone," she squeals and I roll my eyes. I don't want to attract attention to myself, they're right for that point, but you can't listen to Effie for 5 minutes before tuning her out. I turn to Cinna who sends me a smug smile. Haymitch notices this and takes it as a time to scold me.

"However Katniss," he says, glaring at me, "If you're desperate to intimidate your competitors, do so as you please. It wouldn't be bad to finally show the Careers that District 12 has potential." I'm taken aback at this at first, if this was an insult or a compliment. But when I see Haymitch smile, smiling for real, I know he knows we do in fact have potential.

We just have to play it safe with the other tributes.

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**Hopefully my writing can progress and I can start writing more detailed and lengthier chapters. Tell me what you think!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Katniss:**

The way back to our room is silent. I don't even notice the District 1 tributes glaring at us as they too, walk to there rooms, until Haymitch rushes us quickly to our dorm. The gold plaque on the door reads 12, and we proceed in. Cinna's already there, drinking some sort of beverage. He sets it down on the coaster and excuses himself and walks into the costume room. Peeta and I both watch as he closes the door behind him.

"Sit down Katniss, and Cinna will get your training uniforms. Are you hungry?" Effie walks over to the fridge and pulls out a carton of orange juice. I have a headache and a sore throat from the chariot ride, so I comply. Not to mention that the angry boy from 2 is after me. But I gladly take the glass from Effie and swallow it in one gulp. Peeta politely refuses the offer, but Effie insists he drinks something. When she turns her back to get something from the drawer, Peeta hands it to me instantly, and I drink it fast, but quickly stop when Effie turns around. She raises an eyebrow and makes her way over in her heels, and Haymitch has to catch her from falling over. She stumbles a little and holds onto the coffee table for support.

"Peeta, you know you need to drink something. You hardly consumed anything all day!" There is still about a fourth of the juice still left in the cup, and she holds it up to him expectantly, nudging the glass to his arm. No sooner then later he knocks it out of her hands. It spills all over the almond plush carpeting, and Effie screams. Oddly enough I laugh at this. The look on her face is quite horrid and before I know it I'm doubling over in laughter while Peeta and Effie stare at me, baffled.

Quickly going over to get the mop, Peeta sees this as a distraction and leaves to go to his room. I follow him, knowing that my presence there won't do any good either.

Peeta notices me following him and I stop immediately. I do not want to look desperate in front of this boy I hardly know, let alone his talents in this arena. I remember him from around the town, lugging the bags of flour and bread that I always stopped to stare hungrily at. His strength could easily topple over me and assume my death. I quickly open my door and proceed in, but he stops me.

"The Careers are going to team up against us, Katniss, I just know it." his eyes seem to be dilating, but I can't tell if it's because of fear or confusion. Probably both, actually. I agree with his statement but don't show any sign of it. My face and mind have just gone blank. I wonder if it's just because of how his words have taken me aback, or if I just can't think of anything to say. Peeta gives me a small nudge with his hand, and when I feel his fingers caress my skin, I quickly pull away and form my lips in a scowl.

Why am I so hostile to people? That I don't have an answer to, and I don't know if it's because of trust or just in general. I don't confide in anyone really but the only exception would be Gale. He's the only person I can have a conversation with without feeling different, if that makes sense. But even though I barely know Peeta, I can see the disdainful expression on his face, and it makes me realize that if I went any sort of sympathy from the Capitol, I must be nice to even people.

I decide to at least acknowledge the fact that he said something. I give a curt nod. "I know." I'm cursing myself for ending it on such a short notice, because Peeta looks at me like there's more.

"We just have to play it safe. Stay out of there way and hopefully, they will stay out of ours." I actually don't want to do that, to step up another level and prove that I can beat a Career. I can't be afraid or weak in the Games. Even perhaps when I'm starving to death and in desperate search of food and water, I can't give up and sulk until my death. I promised Prim I would win these games. I promised her I would come out alive.

I promised her I wouldn't give up.

Thankfully Peeta ends the conversation short and heads to his room. I feel a little pity for him considering I barely said anything, but I'm thinking that there wouldn't be anything else that I could say. I'm still trying to contemplate whether or not I should converse better with him when I feel two hands spin me gently around and I'm face to face with Cinna.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you at the moment but Effie wanted me to show you your training uniforms. Let's have a look, shall we?" Cinna motions me to come follow him into his room.

It looks identical to mine, even the bed sheets and the pillow. I'm wondering if maybe the Capitol isn't as genuine as it seems, that some of the stuff seems fake and secretive. But then I realize that through my eyes everything in the Capitol is fake.

It doesn't matter about how wealthy they are, they're fake. The people are fake, betting on our lives and then cheering for us everywhere we make an appearance. The Hunger Games is fake, the idea that one could get pleasure out of murder is sickening. But I simply dismiss the thought of being in the arena and focus on Cinna's words.

"The sleeves are a little snug, but they should fit pretty comfortably." Cinna puts the top and the pants over my head and I can easily fit into both of them. He was right; the sleeves are a little tight, but it doesn't matter to me at all. I notice my district number etched in fabric near my shoulders. I like it. I'm thinking that it will show the Gamemakers clearly that I am not afraid to back down.

I take off the jacket and show Cinna my approval. It's an evident sign that neither of us wants to talk about the actual training center and the tributes, so I thank Cinna, and excuse myself to my room.

...

Proceeding to my room is difficult because I feel a small voice in my brain telling me stop. I do, but to take everything all in for a moment, from the beginning when Prim was reaped.

_I volunteered to save Prim._

_I told her I would try to win._

_District 2._

_District 2..._

I'm almost certain that those two want to kill me first thing when I get into the arena. It wouldn't surprise me if they did, really. Me glaring back at them didn't help the situation get any better. But I know certainly being just another pawn in the Games is going to make my death unforgettable. I think back to the night when Peeta and I were perched up on the rooftop, our conversation abiding in my mind. I didn't exactly comprehend what he meant when he said those words, but I know I kept trying to make sense of them.

_"I keep wishing to think of a way they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games."  
_

I know exactly what he indicates by that. But I just can't seem to find a way to perceive that, to actually make my death unforgettable. I wonder if Peeta has found an idea. But then I doubt it because it wouldn't make sense to think of a way to die when something abrupt could happen. I hear someone coming down the hall and I'm really not in the mood to talk. I'm wondering if it's Cinna, but I see his door close just then. Quietly slipping in the opening of the door, I close it fast and tight.

I hear the footsteps click down the corridor and it gradually fades away. Probably Effie. I can faintly hear her voice as she proceeds toward Peeta's room followed by a loud slam that makes me almost jump.

I wonder if Peeta is doing alright. It must be a lot of stress and work to cope with all of this. Although the same has happened to me, I can manage it better considering my life at home. I've starved. I've seen people die. My father passed away. All of that doesn't come close to this. I mean, sure the Hunger Games is not a typical hotspot to go as one might say, but I know I've been through a heck of a lot to give me at least the smallest advantage to winning. And although both Peeta and I both lead hard lives considering we're both from district 12, Peeta has it easy in some ways. He never has to worry about starvation.

It's getting quite late, so I get changed into the flimsy nightgown that's sitting on the dresser. It feels loose so I wrap it around my body and then I collapse on the bed. It takes a moment to come to my senses before I know what's happening. I'm exhausted. Drowsiness has swept over me, and I can't fight anymore. I long to see my family again and before I know it I'm overcome with a whole mix of emotions. Each comes and goes for about three seconds and I'm shuddering afterwards, too terrified to speak.

I wonder if it's because of nerves of entering the Games or I'm just overwhelmed by all this chaos that has been happening. I rule out the nerves idea because that almost undoubtedly happens to everyone the night before the games.

_"Right before the Games."_

_..._

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I actually wrote this a while ago and I haven't really gone over it yet. I'm really ** NOT **happy with this chapter, it was too rushed and I didn't like the wording of it. But please, feedback is always accepted. Cato's POV next chapter. Also, chapters are expected to get lengthier, I'm hoping for 3000-6000+ range.

**A/N: 1: I also want to say I have gotten a tumblr, so all of you who are reading this can go check me out :) The URL is in my bio.**

**2: I'm hoping to expand this story into a good length novel, but depending on the feedback I receive it's a question or not because I may be hesitant. Leave me a review please with your thoughts! Love ya! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Wow, thank you all for these reviews! You definitely motivated me to type up another chapter. I love writing C: haha (I apologize for any typos).** Review please! :)  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.**

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My eyes are struggling to regain focus as I awaken from my nightmare. I feel a sense of alert when my eyes don't open at first. My eyelashes fluttering about, tickling my skin as I hold my breath and struggle silently. At last they open, but the feeling of uneasiness settles beneath me and I'm unable to move. My hands grope desperately in search of something to hold onto, and my fingertips finally settle on the bedpost.

I grasp it in a tight hold, gasping for air. Adrenaline is running through me and I feel fear shooting throughout my body. The realization that I'm safe in this bed stills my movements, and I sit there in silence.

Training starts today, I say to myself. Haymitch must have some sort of approach for us. Hopefully it's not with the Careers. I'm wondering where he is when a tap on the door wakes me from my thoughts and I walk over to it hesitantly and open it. Peeta is standing there, with what appears to be some sort of smug smile on his face. He looks happy and I'm about to ask why when he speaks up.

"You have got to try the food here Katniss," he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the kitchen. I snatch my hand away from his grasp in frustration but he doesn't even bother to notice my temper and runs ahead of me. I spot a roll and his hand and decide I could use something to eat. After all, it's not like everyday I'm going to get a decent meal.

A glass table has been brought out to eat in the dining room, filled with all sorts of delectable food that almost makes my mouth water. Orange chicken with some sort of sauce with chickpeas and pearl onions. Chilled fruit arranged on a spiraling glass sculpture. Baskets of rolls that unleashes a powerful aroma that fills my nostrils. Scrambled eggs and a large ham sits on the table, waiting to be dug in to. I am reluctant to even sit down, for I feel hatred building up inside of me. How food is so easy to get here in the Capitol. People here wouldn't last a day back in 12. I look up to find Cinna staring at me.

"How despicable we must seem to you," he says. I give a mere nod in assent and wondering how he's read my thoughts. But he's right. The majority of the Capitol population is contemptible. But this may be one of the only filling meals I could ever have in my lifetime so I decide to go over to the table before anyone can stop me and start helping myself to the dishes.

An Avox pours me a glass of what I think is orange juice and sets on the napkin in front of me. I've only ever had this drink once, and it was years ago when my father brought it home as a special treat. I take a sip of the cold drink and I am instantly in love with the flavor. It has somewhat of a sweet distinct taste to it and I take another sip before eagerly taking a roll dotted with seeds from a basket and bite into it.

It's hearty bread, no doubt, and I can tell immediately that this is no ordinary bread. The bread we have at home are merely cheap doughy biscuits that taste like chalk. I don't like them but being one of the only meals we can afford I don't pass up the offer. I focus back onto the roll, noticing that instead of the grayish tint we have at home it's been replaced with pure white dough.

I load a slice of ham on my plate along with some bacon and scrambled eggs. The eggs have a buttery flavor to it that's rich and creamy and I'm wondering maybe I shouldn't gorge myself with all of these delicacies. I decide to sit back for a moment and take in my companions at the table.

Peeta's examining some sort of bread cake with some sort of icing that's been used as a filling hidden inside the bread. Haymitch is drinking his usual glass of wine and a half eaten apple sits on his plate. Cinna and Portia are both trying all sorts of muffins that are arranged in an assortment that lies near the edge of the table. I take one last bite of my ham and wipe the grease from my face with my napkin. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm full and I want to go to back to bed.

But I know better then to sleep here. Training starts in a few hours and Haymitch had to be working hard last night to think of a plan to help Peeta and I. But I'm starting to reconsider my last words when I see him a take a long swig from his wine bottle and swallow in it a one gulp.

We all sit there in tense silence, averting our eyes to each other. Except for Haymitch, who's got his eyes trained on another wine glass filled with something that resembles liquor. Peeta sees his eagerness to grab the glass and instantly moves it to where Cinna's sitting and Cinna places it farther away from Haymitch, who gives a small huff of annoyance.

"So," I say, breaking the ice. "What do you have planned for us today?" Haymitch looks up from his wine glass, his words slurring. "Something," he mutters. I don't even have to know that Peeta is looking at me uncomfortably right now, and I let my eyes flicker up to meet his gaze for a moment and then place my eyes somewhere else.

I know what he's feeling right now, because I feel it now too. It's frustration. That Haymitch is half-drunk, not even bothering helping us. More focused on his benefit then on ours.

That's when I realize I detest Haymitch. No wonder the District 12 tributes never stand a chance. It isn't just that we haven't had a chance to train or eat well. Some of our tributes have still been strong enough to make a go of it. But we rarely get sponsors and he's a big part of the reason why.

"Haymitch." I say, trying to push it again. "Please be more specific." I know if he wasn't the least bit half drunk he could actually be a help to us. I'm wondering if I should just leave the case and go about my own. I realize when I'm sitting there I would actually be more than happy to do that. Teaming up with Peeta could very much be a weakness and if I want to survive in the arena I can't go about trusting anyone. I notice him once again looking at me indifferently, and I turn my head the other way to face Haymitch, who's now tracing his fingers over the rim of the glass.

"Sweetheart, give me some time. This mentoring.." he trails off with his words, losing track of his speech, "It's very hard work. Give me some time." I glare at him, but the countenance on my face quickly turns into shock as Cinna gets up, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. He politely excuses himself and proceeds to the hallway that leads to our rooms. Portia too also gets up, but only to get a glass of water. I watch her intently as she soon also leaves the room, leaving only Peeta, Haymitch, and I.I'm eager to also leave this conversation, but the look on Peeta's face is begging for me not to leave him here with Haymitch.

So I stay put, and grab the last muffin from the tray and put it on my plate.

"Be a dear and pass the margarine, will you?" Haymitch carelessly attempts to reach for the buttery spread and Peeta picks up and throws it across the room. It hits the wall and splatters all over the tile. I stare at him in shock with my mouth open, and find that Haymitch's eyes have lifted from exhaustion. His eyes widen in surprise but quickly revert back to the usual dull stare. Good thing Effie is nowhere to be seen. She probably would have freaked out in her usual state of panic.

Still, I really couldn't blame her. An Avox standing near the doorway rushes to find some cleaning supplies in a closet near the hallway. I turn back to face Peeta, who's innocently eating a strawberry.

"Well, well.." Haymitch says, squinting. He seems to be eying us intently. "Do I actually have a pair of decent tributes this year?" He manages a small smile before taking another glass of his wine. Peeta looks at him self-consciously and sits there, silent. I can see in his eyes that he's confused. Did Haymitch mean this as a compliment? I watch as Haymitch starts chuckling to himself, suppressing an inaudible comment. Probably about us. And I know it's about us by the way he looks to and fro from us, snickering.

"Maybe you do," I say bitterly. "It wouldn't be much of a surprise." This statement comes off as arrogant, but I know I can't take it back. Haymitch strokes his chin and bites his lip eminently. I'm thinking perhaps I should actually take it back, because the look on his face tells me this isn't exactly the best time to be speaking up.

"Then why don't you show me some of your abilities?" He seems to be questioning our motives. My stomach starts to tighten up because I don't see a bow and arrow in sight of me and only the knives on the table would have to do. He motions for me to go first and I pick up the blade.

I surprisingly throw it with such force that it lodges between to picture frames, making me look better then I actually am. Haymitch gives me a look of decency that tells me I'm not too bad, and motions Peeta to then stand up. I can see Peeta shaking and can tell he's never thrown a knife before. I feel sorry for him, but I know better. Pity would be considered a weakness in the arena and if I want to survive I can't let things pass by like this.

His hands are trembling with so much fear that when I watch him throw the knife it slips from his grasp and flies a couple feet, falling to the floor. He looks at us, embarrassed of his actions. Haymitch just nods calmly and ponders for a moment. I'm possibly wondering if maybe he sees some sort of potential in me, but then I look at the wine bottle and dismiss the thought. But he eventually gets up, dumping the remnants of his food into the garbage can and waves his hand in some sort of farewell.

But just for a second, he turns around and what is seemingly a small smile creeps up onto his face. "Good job, Katniss." he says. Then he turns around and leaves, leaving just Peeta and I alone. He's behind me, and I know he's building up with anger. The next words that come out of his mouth I easily predict.

"I knew he liked you better, I just kne-" I slam my hand on the table, interrupting his sentence. Haymitch barely knows any of us and to assume the thought that he favors me is unbelievable. "He doesn't like me better than you Peeta, so don't even start. It was a lucky shot." I feel my voice rising in volume.

"Do you hear me? It was a _lucky_ shot. And to say that he favors me over you is not true, Peeta. Assuming things is nothing more than a weakness. Alright?" I tone it down near my finish. Peeta just looks at me and nods his head.

"Alright." He goes over to the cooler that's built into the counter and pulls out a can of grape juice. It makes an unusual fizzing noise before opening. I clench my teeth together, the corners of my mouth twitching. I don't understand at all what he's making of this and I really do not want to find out. I want something to get my mind of all of this, and is that really not too much to ask?

It must be, because Peeta is trying to make small talk with me that I really do not have time for. I try to do the best I can and nod at the right times but I try to show to him in the littlest way possible that I'm not interested.

And as I'm going through all of this, is Peeta really a good person to be around? After all, he seems pretty good on camera and I'm wondering if I should avoid him. Trusting people is a weakness, and it's a weakness I can't afford.

* * *

**Cato:**

"Training starts in a few hours, Cato." Enobaria says, opening the door to my room and peeking her head in slightly. "Just thought I'd let you know. Your uniform is over there-" She points toward the open closet door. "Clove is already down there, practicing. Maybe you ought to join her." She shuts the door before I have time to respond, calling something for Brutus. My mouth closes and I stare at the closet ahead of me, looking at the uniform. I decide to put on the outfit for the heck of it, and knowing Clove she'll be glad to have my company.

Putting on the uniform is actually harder then I expected, oddly enough. The sleeves are very tight and the inner fabric near the leg area is itchy and it's irritating me. I adjust it until it's somewhat adequate on me, and find that there are numerous strings dangling from my arm.

Grumbling, I rip the threads off, revealing another layer of fabric. For having so many layers, I'm surprised the material is that cheap. I cautiously feel the material again only to find that the 2 etched in on the back of the suit is peeling off too. Finally I decide I've had enough with picking the strings off my body and leave the room.

I notice Brutus and Enobaria talking in hushed voices, whispering to each other. When they see me, they instantly stop what they are doing. I'm wondering if I should just ignore them and get over to the training center when Brutus starts humming some tune that serves as a poor excuse for hiding something suspicious.

"What's going on?" I say indifferently, trying not to care. Enobaria forms her face into a scowl before pushing Brutus over to me to talk.

"Tell him," she hisses. He looks nervous and I'm possibly wondering if it's bad news, although I don't see what news he could really talk about. Maybe it's about the girl from 12 or maybe it's just some advice. As he opens his mouth to speak I stop thinking and listen.

"Listen Cato," he mutters. I can smell the sour citrus wine on his breath and I wrinkle my nose. "When you're in the training center, focus on the girl from 12, you hear me?" I nod. "_Intimidate _her. Shake her a little. Do anything you can to make her frightened." He pauses for a second.

"And whatever you do, don't let your guard down."

* * *

**Katniss:**

Training is less than fifteen minutes away and already I can feel my stomach twisting in knots. I glance over at Peeta, who's watching some Capitol update from the television in the living room. The kitchen and the living room are adjoined together so you can walk into each of them without a hallway. I get up and decide to join him, but sit from him as far away as possible. Luckily he doesn't notice. And I really don't want to imagine if he did.

"What are you doing, Peeta?" I inquire, flipping over a pillow to act as a cushion for my back. He doesn't answer for a few seconds and I'm thinking that he doesn't want to talk to me. "Nothing, just watching something about the Games. You know, our chariot ride." I actually didn't know this was on. I can tell the update is coming near the end and just manage to see a shot of us, engulfed in flames as we stroll down the walkway. I see myself catch a rose and slightly grimace as I bite a thorn by accident. It gives me somewhat of a chuckle and Peeta stares at me quizzically. "What?" he says.

"Oh, it's nothing." I'm doubling over in laughter although there's really no reason to. "It's just that when I caught the rose the thorns were pricking my throat." This comes out really awkward actually, and I quickly try to cover it up. "You could see me trying to painfully smile." Peeta attempts to laugh with me but I know he doesn't think it's funny.

"Alright," he says coolly. I'm about to say something more but I've probably said too much already.

A loud noise behind us startles Peeta and I and I turn my head. It's Haymitch, who's dropped a wine bottle on the floor. Shards of glass are covering the tile and I'm crossing my fingers Effie doesn't come in. There's no reaction for a moment until I hear the click of her heels coming down the hallway and run over to the door before she can come.

Peeta follows me, as well. As he closes the door shut I can hear her screaming at Haymitch, calling him all sorts of names that are surprisingly anything but polite. Weird for Effie, that is. She's usually the type to badger us on manners and all. But as we step into the elevator the screaming gradually fades away. The training center is on the top of the building but is encompassed by a large dome that rests on top. On the other side is the rooftop.

I'm possibly hoping we don't have to make a stop to a level when it stops at Deck 7, stopping the movement of the elevator. The door opens and the two tributes from District 7 get in. Neither of us say hello and I'm glad to keep it like that way. Peeta mumbles a hello but they don't respond back.

I would've done the same, really. These people with us in the elevator could easily betray us and we would get killed, depending on the situation. Maybe some small friendly-talk would be nice, but when we get to the arena it's only between me and my opponents. Unless maybe the other case of having them as an ally, but no sooner than later you have to turn on them at some point. Alliances are risky and are most certainly always temporarily.

The elevator once again comes to a halt, forcing me to almost stumble backwards. I clasp on the metal bar on the side of the wall for support. The door opens and both the District 2 tributes come in. Once they recognize me the girl's face immediately reverts into a scowl, muttering something unintelligible.

The boy just stands there, smirking. I chew on my tongue, and step to the side so he can come in. He towers over must of us as we ride up, like a giant.

Him and his female partner are jokingly talking and laughing, not caring about the stares from the other tributes. I'm relieved once it stops and I get out last, but the girl from 2 waits there until I make a movement.

"Go." she says sternly, a smile creeping up on her lips. I'm contemplating whether I should follow her orders but a quick recap from last night makes me instantly move out of the elevator. I remember last night when I was walking by the training center and I saw her throwing knives effortlessly, hitting the target on dead center. Those knives, flying through the air and hitting the bulls-eye. It might be only a matter of time before a knife finds me.

The training area is blocked by a large metal door that you have to type in a passcode before entering. Peeta and the other tributes must already be inside because I don't see them anywhere in sight. I'm possibly wondering what passcode we have to enter before I see the girl from 2 give a slight snicker and pushes the buttons on the wall.

"It's your name, you know." She pushes the buttons and I can see that her name spells out to be Clove. She puts her fingerprint on the sensor and the door opens with a loud creak and she steps in. I follow her too but a loud zap startles me and I pull away my hand in pain. I can see my palm starting to turn red and I grumble. "It's one at a time, 12." She gives a small laugh and rolls her eyes. "Enter your passcode too." She closes the door and leaves me grumbling. And how was I supposed to know that I needed to enter my name? Besides, the fingerprint sensor thing is pretty questionable, too. How did they even get my fingerprint?

I enter the passcode and put my fingerprint on the scanner and hold it there. It confirms my identity and the door opens. I step in, carefully not wanting to attract any noises. The tributes from 1 are already there and as they talk with Clove and is partner I can tell they've been talking about me. The laughter and the looks from their faces gives it away. I bit my lip and knit my eyebrows into something that resembles a frown.

It's really not fair, is it? Just because I'm from District 12 doesn't mean I have a small chance at winning. I don't want to sound conceited in front of them, but I'm pretty decent with a bow and I can almost every time hit the game that wanders in the woods. I'm not one to count out. Or am I? Considering there's only one victor from our district gives us a pretty bad reputation on the chances of winning.

The head trainer Atala, notices me and sends me a warm smile. I do my best to gradually return it but I'm really not up to being friendly. Still, maybe she noticed me during the chariot ride and it interested her. Soon enough, all the tributes have shown up, and we stand in a semi circle as Atala stands in the middle.

"Welcome tributes," she says, smiling. "I am glad to welcome you to this training center. Here you should hopefully find something that matches your interest to guide you through the different aspects of the Games. Although you don't know what the arena is going to be like, the trainers at the various stations will try their best to accomodate you in any way shape or form." She pauses before continuing, letting the news sink in.

"In two weeks, 23 of you will be dead. The remaining person will become a victor. Who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next four days, particularly to what I'm about to say. First no fighting with the other Tributes. The arena will surely give you plenty of time to do that. Next, there are four compulsory exercises, and you all will be required to do them. The rest will be individual training. My advice is don't ignore the survival skills. Weapons are almost always an immediate choice but most of you will die from natural causes. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife."

The last words send a shutter down my spine. Considering what I've seen with Clove, she's right.

Atala says a few more words before releasing us to do whatever we please. I decide to proceed over to the fire making station, because even know I can build a good fire, from what I see there are only some thin sticks to make a fire.

No one else joins me though, and I'm happy at that. I don't notice a trainer running this station, but I spot a guard a few feet away, probably to make sure tributes don't let a fire go out of hand. In less than an hour I've got a good fire going and I can smell the smoke drifting from the flames. I get up and survey it, proud of my accomplishment.

I'm pretty content to spend the rest of the morning here, but as I go over to get the pail filled with water to quench the fire I hear a laugh coming from behind me. I whip around and am face to face with the guy from 2. His arms are crossed and his lips are formed in a triumphant smile, clapping sarcastically.

"Well well," he says, smirking. "Good job, 12." He rolls his eyes and continues smirking at me.

I resist the urge to slap him. "Like you could do any better?" I shoot back, glaring at him.

His face still stays in an amusing way, raising an eyebrow. "Alright, I will." He finally spits out. He goes over to where I'm standing and puts a bundle of sticks next to my fire and stands there. I'm hoping he's puzzled but he startles me by yelling to the other Careers.

"Come here guys!" His partner and the District 1 tributes look up. They walk over and he stands out of the way so they can see. "What Cato?" they ask.

"Look at my fire," he points to my fire that's rising up in flames and the others nod in approval. I'm about to speak up for myself, angry for him stealing my work, when he starts to talk again. "And look at 12's fire," Cato points to the bundle of sticks that hasn't even been lit yet and the others start chuckling with him.

I can start to feel tears well up in my eyes and I glare at him. How dare he steal my work and take all the credit. I tear slips down my face and as the others continue to laugh, Cato stops but still continues to laugh a little.

Hatred and anger is building up inside of me and without thinking I push him, hard. He stumbles back and lands in the fire and starts yelling for help. I take the pail filled with water and drench him in the cold liquid.

The training room suddenly quiets down immediately and all eyes are turned to me.I can feel the heat start to creep up onto my cheeks and I slowly turn my head to face the other people in the room.

Everyone has seemed to only have their eyes fixated on the Careers and I. The girl from 1's mouth is opened wide and her partner and Clove are staring at me with baffled looks on their faces. I can't help but admit why I even decided to make a move like that. It's dangerous, and surely I will pay for it in the future. And from what I hear it doesn't take a lot to make Cato angry.

* * *

**A/N: **

**The first part of the chapter was mostly just a filler section to give you some background on their features. Training is here and more of it will continue in the next chapter! This chapter is a quite long and I'm pretty excited about it. I promise that once we get to the Games I'll be absolutely ecstatic and chapters will be longer (fluff too, and lots of cliffhangers :3)  
**

I also really want to proofread this but I'm tired, haha. Hopefully I can start typing up another chapter soon, but going to the mall with friends later today is an absolute necessity ;) Not to mention I also three pet fish, haha from Petco. Their names are Poseidon, Brazu, and Mandarin and they are literally the best thing ever. I just fed them too haha.

In case you want to know about my school life I am doing very well! Spanish is even pretty easy-memorization all the way!

Also - follow me on my tumblr if you have one! I use photoshop to edit my posts as well as reblogging a lot of fandoms, but mostly the Hunger Games :p Depending on if I like your posts I will be happy to follow you :)

**Reviews and feedback would be certainly good! Next chapter will be up in about a week. Sorry if this seems like a big delay-school's started and I'm aiming to do very well. I also play sports and have various clubs and commitments with friends and such. I hope you understand.  
**

Until next week,

Flying Mockingjay :)


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